


Ice Cream

by 35-leukothea (35_leukothea)



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Nezushi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 02:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3633318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/35_leukothea/pseuds/35-leukothea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their reunion, Shion decides they should celebrate with a treat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice Cream

**Author's Note:**

> offshoot of [Chills](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3616614). read on tumblr [here](http://35-leukothea.tumblr.com/post/114868434057/offshoot-of-this-shion-could-you-tell-me-again).

“Shion, could you tell me again exactly  _what_  we are doing here?”

“We are celebrating,” Shion reminded him, ignoring the obvious sarcasm and exasperation of his—his what? His boyfriend? He felt so strange referring to him that way, even in his head. Nezumi wasn’t a boyfriend. He was…sort of everything, all at once. He was irreplaceable. And he was  _back_. Shion could barely force away his grin at the thought. Nezumi had returned, for him.

“Well, it seems like a pretty dumb way to celebrate,” Nezumi grumbled (charming as ever), his arms crossed, fists clenched, and shoulders stiff. His eyes darted everywhere, to everyone and everything that moved; he was clearly uncomfortable standing in a queue in a store in the place that used to be called No. 6, where nobody was afraid they would be mugged or shot at at random. He was still too used to the West District.

“Don’t be that way, you’ll upset my mother,” Shion chastised lightly.

It had been Karan who’d sent them there. Upon Nezumi’s return, she had been positively overjoyed to finally meet the boy who had saved her son’s life multiple times. There had been some crying on her part, a fair amount of discomfort between all three of them, and Nezumi, trying for once in his life to alleviate a socially-awkward situation, had commented on Karan’s baking. This conversation had gone in a number of directions until they finally arrived at Shion’s favorite cherry cake (which Nezumi remembered quite distinctly) and how they used to have it with ice cream on his birthdays before it got too expensive.

“Nezumi’s never had ice cream,” Shion had commented offhandedly, though he had a strange glint in his eye as he said it.

“What!” cried Karan. “Well, that certainly has to change, doesn’t it! Why don’t you two go to the corner shop and buy a carton?”

“D-didn’t you just say it was expensive, ma’am?” stammered Nezumi, sounding very uncharacteristically embarrassed.

“Oh, please,” she said, “this is not the time for frugality. If there’s leftovers we’ll just save some for little Lili, alright?”

Which had ended that argument before it even really started.

And so here they were, standing in line at a tiny store a few blocks from Karan’s bakery, Shion with a cloth bag and carton of vanilla ice cream in hand (“What flavor do you want?” “I don’t know.” “Have you ever had chocolate?” “Shion, I’m not  _that_  sweet-deprived.” “Okay, okay, we’ll get vanilla then”), and five minutes later they were already on their way back.

“That was—bizarre,” mumbled Nezumi as soon as they stepped out of the store, rubbing the back of his neck.

Shion glanced at him and inhaled sharply, then smacked his hand away from his neck. “Hey, are you trying to give me a panic attack or something?” he asked with a shaky laugh, trying to sound lighthearted and doing a poor job of it. “Stop that.”

“Huh—?” Nezumi look at his hand. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s—fine. What did you mean when you said bizarre?”

“I don’t know. This whole place is bizarre. I can’t believe you live here.”

Shion sighed quietly, but not out of exasperation or anything of the sort. His pulse was still racing, and he needed more air. “You’ll get used to it. It’s not the same as it used to be.”

“Seems pretty damn close to me.”

Of course Nezumi would still be bitter about No. 6. Shion hadn’t really expected anything else—maybe hoped for something else, but not expected. It was okay, though.  _Scars heal with time, lots of time._

He still had quite a few to prove it.

It was approaching twilight when they returned to the bakery, but it was still warm out. All the windows were thrown open, hoping to coax in a breeze to ruffle curtains and hair, and carry out the heat and smells of burnt pastry from the oven. Karan was waiting for them at the door, and she ushered them inside like this ice cream was her greatest concern.

“I’ve got everything ready!” she said proudly, as if there were more to get ready then some dishes and silverware. “In, in, we don’t want it melting…”

They sat at the low table, Nezumi and Shion exchanging amused glances while Karan spooned ice cream into the two bowls she had out.

“Thanks, Mum,” Nezumi said, completely jokingly, as Karan set his dish and spoon down in front of him, and received something of a shock when she responded by putting her hand on his cheek and kissing the top of his head. Nezumi froze, looking mortified and extraordinarily confused. Shion snorted into his hand. Karan just smiled, set down the second bowl, and returned to the kitchen, where her baking was waiting for her.

“Oh, my god,” Shion choked out as soon as his mother left the room. “Nezumi, you are so red—”

“Shut up!” Nezumi snapped, turning a shade redder. “How was I supposed to know she was gonna do that?!”

But Shion was laughing too hard to reply.

“Asshole,” he muttered scathingly, and stabbed moodily at the ice cream with his spoon. “Be nice, or I might just leave again.”

“Oh, come on, you wouldn’t. Try your ice cream.”

He huffed, but gave in and took a bite. It was impossible to tell from his expression what he thought of it.

Shion blinked at him. “Well?”

Nezumi swallowed, then looked down into his bowl and said tonelessly, “It tastes like what rich people candles smell like.”

Shion forced himself not to laugh.

“Do you…do you like it?” he asked tentatively.

Nezumi took another bite, thought for a moment, then decided he did.

They talked for a little while longer, about various topics that mattered very little, and it felt almost normal, in a way that wasn’t really normal at all. At one point they fell silent, with the only sounds to be heard being the whisper of the breeze and the slight  _chink_ s of metal silverware against porcelain bowls, and Shion found himself wondering vaguely if Safu would’ve enjoyed this. He wondered if she would’ve liked Nezumi. Would Nezumi had liked her? Come to think of it, Nezumi may have known more about her than Shion thought, since he’d been watching Shion for a while before the rescue and Shion was almost always with Safu. He opened his mouth to ask about this, but almost as if on cue, Nezumi let out a strangled sort of cry and dropped his spoon.

“ _Ach!_ ” He squeezed his gray eyes shut and pressed both his palms to his forehead. “What the  _fuck_ —?”

This time, Shion couldn’t not laugh. “Guess I should’ve told you to eat that slowly, huh?”

“What? What are you talking about— _ow_ —”

“We call it brain freeze.”

“I call it an aneurysm, fucking hell—I bet this stuff is where the elites get their entire pain tolerance from.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m going to have a headache all the rest of the night because of this, and it’s your fault for making me eat this, crazy airhead—”

Shion grinned and leaned over to kiss Nezumi’s forehead. “I’m not that sorry.”

He shook his head as if he were disappointed that his standards were not being lived up to. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I know.”


End file.
